Let’s Be Honest: 'Bromance' Is More Problematic Than You Think
Plus six other trends I'd like to see updated or put into the vault.
Today's Paid Subscriber post is available to everyone (and keep a lookout for a BONUS Other Men-i in your podcast feed about a term I privately consider retiring).
I'll have posts for paid subscribers resuming in October.
Last week, we celebrated the anniversary of Other Men Need Help with seven lessons we’ve learned about masculinity. Today we bookend this reflection with seven masculine tropes we’d like to see change in the next seven years.
David Fincher's Fight Club celebrated its 25th anniversary this year, and for the last quarter century, Brad Pitt's glistening abs have been torturing folks as a masculine pinnacle. I'm not here to argue that Pitt's bare torso isn’t gorgeous in Fight Club or in general (let's be honest, most of us would probably eat scrambled eggs off of it), but this irrefutable six-pack continues to sell a de facto physical standard for North American men. I'm ok with workout routines, but let's stay realistic with our expectations, folks. Throughout the run of Other Men Need Help, we've tackled themes of body dysmorphia, which has offered me a sympathetic ear to this private pain point for many who struggle to make their body look like someone else’s (myself included). In the clickbait approach of men’s media publications, Pitt's Tyler Durden remains the optimization standard of physical excellence.
It's been 25 years, y'all. Durden needs to be put out to pasture.1
(Btw, try saying "Retire Tyler Durden" five times in a row. It kinda has a "Rural Juror" ring to it).
John Ibson's work, particularly in Picturing Men, shows a striking collection of black-and-white photos from earlier eras where men hold hands, sit on laps, and embrace without irony. These images capture a time when physical affection in male friendships was widely accepted before societal shifts such as industrialization2 and the term "homosexual" became more prevalent; attitudes reframed these gestures. Over the last century, to contend with cultural judgment, Ibson reminds us that "One of the several sacrifices that many men make to homophobia is to deny themselves the full pleasure of another's touch."
While not always used in a homophobic way, “bromance” often reinforces stereotypes that discourage emotional vulnerability between men by subtly eroticizing their closeness. Media frequently amplifies this, turning basic expressions of male affection into a spectacle.
This raises the question: Why is male friendship still so scrutinized when friendships between other genders are not?
Ok, this might be a tricky and nuanced topic for reasons you might not expect. There's precedent for using "girl" when referring to adults, especially in Black and queer culture, where it's often a term of empowerment or community. And yes, we sometimes use it in playful ways with friends. I'm all for that.
What I'm really addressing is the casual and widespread use of "girl" in pop culture and daily life to describe women who are clearly adults—often far beyond 18—and essentially reduce them to children. Full disclosure—I must be better about gently correcting it when I hear it. I'll work on that, I promise!
But watching TV makes this habit obvious. Case in point: Love is Blind. The average contestant is 25, yet the way they keep referring to grown women as "girls" you'd think they were podding with kids (eww). The overuse of “girl” could be taught as a math class. Last year, I made a montage from LIB Season six to demonstrate how often it happens. Who knows? Maybe we should make this part of the U.S.'s STEM and sex education curriculum so we can start addressing it early!
I have Google Alerts set up for various terms related to masculinity. If you relied solely on that discourse—wow—it seems like everything is being tied to toxic masculinity these days.
The overuse of the term risks draining it of meaning, and more troublingly, it puts men immediately on the defensive, turning every masculine trait into something that needs to be measured against its virulence. In a recent interview on the Washington Post's Impromptu podcast, scholar Richard Reeves captured the political impact of this framing, saying: "Democrats have been really bad at suggesting not that we need an evolution of masculinity, but sometimes they've sounded like we need an abolition of masculinity—that masculinity didn't need reform, it needed obliteration. And so a lot of men feel like there isn't much there for them."
Reeves also pointed out how this rhetoric often lacks substance: "Is it followed up by policy? Will we see politicians supporting, for example, the Office of Men's Health? Will they actually instruct the CDC to recognize the male suicide crisis?"
Historically, men have held cultural and political power, and I absolutely support the idea that men need to be more conscious, reflective, and accountable. But we should rethink how we frame the conversation. Certain terms (like "toxic masculinity") can create a barrier to dialogue, shutting down listening, or worse, pushing men to double down on the more negative patterns of behavior we're trying to change.
I want to point to Tracy Clark-Flory’s excellent piece on Positive Masculinity, which offers a similar argument to this often binary assessment regarding what we deem as positive or negative male behavior.
One of the key reasons I focused season three of Other Men Need Help on male friendship was that the majority of the articles and books I’d read on this topic were written by women. To be clear, this isn't to suggest that women shouldn’t be writing about male friendship—quite the opposite. Their perspectives are invaluable and necessary.3 But it made me wonder: Why aren’t more men reflecting on this topic, culturally or personally? If male friendships are in crisis, as so many of these pieces suggest, where are the male voices grappling with it in prose, reporting, essays, and everyday life?
I’ll admit, it arguably took me too long to analyze this in my own life. So, I’m throwing it out to anyone who identifies as a man: Does this conversation resonate with you? Do you feel this so-called “friendship crisis” is real? And if it rings true, what are we doing about it?
Men—SURPRISE—talk about sex. It's fun, often playful, and full of jokes. That's fine—no need to stop laughing about sex as we age. But here's the challenge: How do we take that same energy we put into talking about sex and direct it toward the broader reproductive rights conversation?
One of the biggest struggles I face, both as a man and through this platform, is finding a way to bridge the gap between the casual sex talk we love and the serious discussions surrounding sexuality, bodily autonomy, consent, and reproductive rights. Can we bring the same enthusiasm we have joking about “jerking off” into fighting for personal freedoms being taken away by “jerk-offs?”
If I had a magic wand, I'd use it to get men not just talking about sex but engaging in the fight for reproductive freedom. Because it's all connected—sex, pleasure, autonomy, and the right to choose, we have an opportunity to bring those conversations together and push for real change.
Some episodes of Other Men Need Help stem from a need to capture and communicate the tenderness I’ve witnessed or experienced. Then there are episodes fueled by sheer frustration. Case in point: our holiday drop, God Bless Ye Merry, Other Men and my own version of a gift guide in this here Substack. Both were born from my deep frustration and incredulous screams over the “five gifts” I see in holiday newsletters and men’s media for “that special guy.”
It’s always the same: a watch from a James Bond movie, an axe, whiskey, a whiskey stone, or a whiskey glass with an axe handle (yes, that exists). Now, don’t get me wrong—there’s some internal conflict because, sure, I might actually want some of these things. I’m not immune to fetishizing “men’s” items.
But here's the kicker: just like we encourage kids to play with toys outside of their gender norms, I want the same shift in how we approach men’s deeper needs versus what they’re being told to want. Gift-giving should focus on fostering real connections, not just perpetuating tired stereotypes.
That said, I’d still totally accept an axe.
The fun doesn’t stop here, folks. You have another offering (and eighth “trope”) in your podcast feed today—a Men-i ep in which I share a very topical term I privately ruminate on changing.
Adios, ciao ciao, byeeeeeeeee,
Mark ✌🏼
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One of my favorite moments going to the movies happened in 2019 during the opening weekend of Once Upon a Time in… Hollywood. For those who remember, there's a scene where Brad Pitt removes his shirt to do some work on a sunny rooftop. At that moment, the whole audience audibly swooned. A beat later, there was a guy in our row who screamed out, "Oh, come on!" I like to think that we can all sit and enjoy Brad Pitt's abs and also echo this guy's sentiment, like, "That's not realistic for me."
Historian Stephanie Cortez on pre-industrialization: “No one thought it ‘unwomanly’ to be hardheaded in business or ‘unmanly’ to weep. But as economic production moved outside the household, the work activities and emotional responsibilities or men and women began to diverge. Men increasingly labored in impersonal institutions that required feelings be kept under wraps. And the work that wives did at home focused less on producing goods than on providing a haven for husbands and children.”
Niobe Way’s work, particularly her book Deep Secrets, was a revolutionary read about this topic.
Loved this!
“Because it's all connected—sex, pleasure, autonomy, and the right to choose, we have an opportunity to bring those conversations together and push for real change.”
Naaaaiiillee it 🫂